


Spring Brought Primrose

by UniversalSatan_dArchive



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Aged Down to 19, Angst, Character Development, Enemies to Lovers, Extended Metaphors, M/M, Medieval Ukraine, Plant Symbolism, Prompt: Flowers/Trees Blooming, Somewhat The Sound Of Music Influenced, Steven is a personal guard/smithy/soldier??, Tumblr: Buzzfeed Creations Challenge, andrew is Mean at first but let him Develop, kind of..... - Freeform, prince AU, really really really bad slowburn fyi, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalSatan_dArchive/pseuds/UniversalSatan_dArchive
Summary: Steven is tasked with more than he bargained for when tasked to be the personal guard of the unpredictable Prince Andrew. As they understand each other better, they learn that there's more than just the surface, even if understanding their own thoughts may be difficult.A flower can flourish in the autumn, and though it will suffer in the winter, it will inevitably bloom in the spring.





	Spring Brought Primrose

**Author's Note:**

> god this was supposed to be like 5k words what the hell happened.... but tysm to [dyl,](http://lesboshack.tumblr.com/) who has only been able to beta/help edit half of it, but i'll edit this chapter later (i had a due date oof)
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's what I reference a lot from the poem lol (jonquils are daffodils)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plant_symbolism)
> 
>  
> 
> ❀ Okay so you don't HAVE to listen to the music mentioned, but it's HIGHLY recommended. ❀
> 
> The first song is linked to the one I want the feel to be more like in the text (if u listen to one, listen to that one), but a longer version is [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=po78Z3i1lq0) (lyrics are not mine within the fic, they are translations from ukrainian)  
> The other song mentioned briefly in this chapter you can find [here](https://youtu.be/E9JOGUK5jyw?t=1m55s) and [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7hHlh2IusY)  
> [i doubt any of the songs are accurate to the time period, but i wanted to get as close as i possibly could]
> 
> This fic was started for thebuzzfeedchallenge on the prompt Flowers/Trees Blooming

_As drapes of twilight night are drawn_

_The morning gale come sings her song:_

_“Prithee,” she sing, “What lovely day._

_The bullfrogs cry and th’ foxes play.”_

_And in their unsuspecting fun_

_A tale profound charms ev’ryone._

_Hooray! Oh Joy! Oh joyous day!_

_Hautbois and trumpets lead their way!_

 

_A Prince of fear and cold of heart,_

_One saved us all from God’s depart._

_A kindness overtook this land_

_With thoughts and prom’ses of a band._

_Pray, give this bond eternal trust,_

_In love and hardship, this it must._

_His garden that the steed will sow_

_Seeds love and adoration grow._

 

_Present ye first a jonquil much_

_Innum’r’ble meanings b'yond the bunch._

_Restless the pond, the breeze - it sighs:_

_For in its midst, coriander lies._

_Red rose, carnations, row by row,_

_Under blue skies, man-made meadow._

_Prince knows not the meaning of each,_

_But Knight will be willing to preach._

 

_The dawn will lead the moonflow’r close_

_And in its place reveal primrose._

  
  


❀   ❀   ❀  


 

 

Though the event occurred only a fortnight ago, the arrival of the letter would hold immense influence on Steven’s life.

Adam had found him welding away in the shop, fixing up his latest creation. He had a strange expression gracing his face as he smoothly wove his way around glowing embers and cooling weapons with his note carrier fastened around his shoulder. At first, his hand found itself hesitant to remove itself from the satchel, but he then took a letter of expensive parchment from within once everyone else in the vicinity felt their curiosity begin to pique. Adam then gave that letter in question to Steven, seeming to have some sort of silent understanding of where that letter came from.

Steven, in fact, still currently had the letter with him. It was tucked neatly in the pocket of his tunic and burned a hole into his chest. The importance it held was beyond anything Steven thought he deserved, yet at the same time, it planted something new within him. It planted seedlings of confidence and opportunity to strive for the better.

The letter already felt like a novel, opening up to give Steven’s life some significance.

That evening, Adam hadn’t said much —  but that wasn’t so unusual of him. His quiet manner of slipping between the cracks of everybody’s ordinary lives before slipping away again like water oddly suited him for his position as a messenger boy. He wasn’t too much older than Steven, who was currently at the ripe age of 19 years.

At first, Steven wasn’t quite sure what to do with the newly-presented letter abandoned to his possession. Adam was already sneaking out of the shop as he inspected the parchment, seeing the decorated rich crimson seal on the back. The sight of the Ilnyckyj family crest almost made Steven drop the letter to his feet. He tried his best to wipe the grease off of his hands before inflicting too much damage to the parchment as he opened the letter. Luckily, Steven was able to open it without dealing too much damage to the seal, but the elegant cursive ink inside overwhelmed him to an even greater extent. It took him a few attempts to fully understand the intent of the letter.

The Royal family was requesting Steven to come and live in the castle to be the personal guard of their eldest son — the known successor of the King and Queen. He was to arrive at the castle with his belongings in exactly a fortnight before evening fell over the kingdom, and he would be supplied with meals and clothes along with pay and residence. It was mentioned that they had been impressed with his performance during a previous sparring tournament he would often participate in and were interested in letting him have a higher position in their ranks.

“I didn’t even win the tournament!” Steven later told his sister with disbelief. “I’m not nearly as popular as Red Bear — he won by a long shot!”

“Yes, but you were rather impressive, I have to say,” she replied absentmindedly, busy folding what little he had for clothes. “You deserved the gold.”

“I don’t care about the gold,” Steven huffed. “And of course you’d say that, as my kin.”

“Perhaps, but you were cheated in your earlier rounds.”

“There is no cheating in war; only losing.”

“The King and Queen must have observed the cheating. Perhaps they prefer someone who is truly good both inside and out,” she advised him sweetly. Steven watched as she finished tying up a safety enchantment bag, carefully packing it in with the rest of his belongings. “They may have also noticed your personal touch to your weapons and armor,” she added, gesturing to one of Steven’s personally crafted swords lying upon his sister’s work desk.

Either way, the gig had never been turned down, and the Royal Family was still expecting his presence that present evening. So on he marched, through dirt and gravel road, past house and shop. The wood- and straw-based buildings were as familiar as the stray animals running around every path. As he moved further in-town, the homes became nicer and better kept, indicating where the wealthier of the population resided.

The stone castle stood where it always had: at the top of the hill in the kingdom, dropping off to the most spectacular lake that shimmered like a thousand crystals behind its walls. Not only was Steven lead by this spectacular sight, but the sun was also setting behind the castle, almost making it seem like the structure itself was glowing. It would have been peaceful in any other situation, but with the predicament in which Steven currently found himself, it was more intimidating than anything else.

On his back was his favourite broadsword underneath his traveling bag, with some parts of his armor dangling and clanging from his back like cow bells. His other sword was hung by his side, but the rest of his armor and weapons were still at the blacksmith’s and his sister’s enchantment shop. He would probably make an attempt to fetch them once he settled into his new residence, but he also looked forward to seeing the materials the castle would have to offer to let him enhance his craft.

Caught in his thoughts and before he knew it, Steven was already at the foot of the bridge for the castle’s moat. It was a protective valley around the premises, filled with water from the lake. Ever since Steven and his sister had first arrived to the kingdom, there was always child’s talk and lore of monsters lurking deep within the waters. He warily watched some currents curling around some jagged rocks out of habit, trying to spot a scale or a glowing eye beneath the brackish water.

Almost being knocked over by a few children, Steven regained his footing and gazed up to take a better look at the castle. The children that had accidentally pushed him to the side were stumbling across the bridge, laughing cheerfully and chasing each other around various food carts and servants. Tall brick walls rose from the other side of the bridge, effectively isolating an entire world within. Behind the fortress, Steven could just barely see the mass of turrets peeking above the brick, barely hinting at the extensive living space the Ilnyckyj family possessed. Everything was dramatically draped in shadow from the tall structures of the castle despite the near perfect visibility the sunset still offered. The sky was blooming crimson and purple, yet remained orange just behind the castle where the sun was bidding goodnight. Steven quickened his pace ever so slightly.

While this was definitely not the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to him, Steven couldn’t help but feel the apprehension rise in his throat as he made his way through the gates, following a cart filled with produce in the hopes that it would lead him to where he needed to go. He glanced once more at the surrounding farm fields and town before letting himself be engulfed by golden brick wall.

The food cart went on about its own way, knowing where it was headed to. Steven stood awkwardly in the middle of the yard he had found himself in, not quite as sure where to go. Servants and guards would occasionally pass him, but none of them took the time to guide him to where he should be. A cat raced across the yard in front of him. Everything around him was already grander than anything he was used to, and despite reminding himself of his new role in the kingdom, he couldn’t help but feel tiny compared to the rest of the busybodies rushing past him. Steven’s leather boots dug into the dirt underneath his feet as his mind raced.

Steven was just about to make his way to a large entrance that seemed promising, but a boy tumbled out from behind the nearest building only to disappear into a flower bed moments later. Startled, Steven turned around to see if anyone else had noticed, only to realize no one had reacted in the slightest. Curious, he abandoned his mission of finding a route inside and made his way over to the bush where the boy was hiding.

It was very difficult to remain quiet with all the armor Steven carried, but when he finally managed to get a good angle, he saw the boy crouched in the flower bush, peeking out the other side as if he was hiding from something. On closer inspection, this was no boy, but the young _man_ looked closer to Steven’s age. Though the fabrics of his clothes were more expensive than anything Steven could ever dream to possess, they were saturated with mud, and his hair was sticking up in every direction —  _it almost had a certain boyish handsomeness about it,_ Steven caught himself thinking. Steven didn’t notice how long he had been staring at the young man until he whipped around to acknowledge him.

Instead of acting guilty for being caught, the man seemed rather snobbish. “How the hell did _you_ get in through the gates? That isn’t castle armor.” He scanned Steven up and down, smugly taking a bite of an apple he had grasped in his hand.

“I…” Steven gaped, astonished at his attitude. Clearing his throat, he tried to change the subject. “You shouldn’t be stepping on all the flowers like that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just… well… you’re ruining them.”

“Who cares? It’s already autumn. They’re dying anyway.”

“Well…” Steven trailed off, once again lost for words. He wanted to say more about why the other shouldn’t be treading on the castle’s flowers, but perhaps this kid wasn’t the right person to be arguing against. This person was proving particularly hard to deal with, and brought up many a question with his mere presence. “Who are you hiding from?”

“The cook.”

“Why? Because of the apple?”

“No,” he sniggered gleefully, taking another bite of his snack, “Because I left the chicken coop hatch open.” Steven was appalled at how someone his own age could act so immature.

“That wasn’t very nice of you. They’ll be hard to round up.”

“So?” the man smirked. “I can do what I want here.” To prove his point, he ground his foot into the dirt, burying the petals of an innocent flower in the mud. Glancing up, he took another once over of Steven. “Why are _you_ here?”

“Oh,” Steven straightened up, suddenly remembering his business there. “I’m supposed to meet with Prince Andrew Ilnyckyj. Do you know where he might be?”

“Ah, of course. How could I not tell,” the man sneered, gesturing to the simple leather garments Steven was wearing. “You’re my new personal servant, aren’t you?”

“I… the what now?” he asked, more surprised at his apparent change of roles. He didn’t even think about speaking politely.

“I’m Prince Andrew,” Andrew introduced himself, standing up and making his way over to Steven. He held an offering hand out to him, which Steven shook, feeling the gooey and fresh mud coat his skin. Yet not once did he let his grip weaken, confidently staring at Prince Andrew’s cocky eyes and perfect smile. “But you may address me as Master.”

He turned around and sauntered over to the grand entrance, laughing boyishly to himself as he went.

 

* * *

 

“He’s always like that,” Ryan laughed, not quite giving Steven the pity he thought he’d receive. “I’m sorry you have to deal with him of all the Ilnyckyjs. They’re actually rather nice.”

“Easy for you to say,” Steven pouted. He organized the few belongings he had in the small space he had been given, barely paying attention to his new friend leaning against the door frame of his chambers. The small room he had been given was apparently right next to Prince Andrew’s quarters for in case anything happened in the night.

“ _Not_ so easy for me to say, when I have to care for the other six younger Ilnyckyj children,” he corrected him, smugly crossing his arms. “Having to only take care of Prince Andrew is almost a bargain. _Almost_.” Steven stared at him wearily, already dreading the consequences of what he had taken on. “All the other children are simply angels.”

“I was hired to be a personal _guard_ , not a babysitter.”

“So was I. And here I am,” he shrugged, not seeming to mind his apparently unintentional role shift. “If I can handle six small children, I’m sure you can manage to handle one stuck-up prince.”

Ryan’s kind words almost made him feel consolidated, but just the mere memory of Prince Andrew’s smug face made him dread his first few weeks in the castle. He was determined to put him back in line... but before that, it could easily become a living nightmare.

Sitting back on his surprisingly soft bed, he stared back at Ryan, drinking in his appearance. Ryan was strong and well built for a soldier, but he didn’t seem Slavic-born either. He probably came up from the East at some point in his life like Steven and his sister did, but Steven wasn’t able to pinpoint from where. Not like it mattered; Ryan seemed to be someone that he could relate to and easily share opinions with, unlike Prince Andrew. He almost had a goofy aspect to his character, which would have gone well with his relationship to the Ilnyckyj children.

“Well, they should probably be calling us down for evening meal any time now,” Ryan said, standing up straighter. “The King and Queen will probably want to meet with you this time, but usually you’ll eat with the rest of the servants and guards in the Mess Hall.”

“The Mess Hall?”

“It’s in the Servant’s headquarters. The building right beside the stables.”

“Oh. So where do I go tonight, then?”

“Just meet me in the main hall soon. I’ll be escorting the Ilnyckyj children to their meal.” Ryan was about to leave but hesitated before he completely disappeared. “Don’t worry about Prince Andrew just yet,” he added. “He’s not your responsibility… at least until after the meal.” And with that, Ryan finally left him.

Turning over those curious words in his mind, Steven set out to change out of his travelling clothes. They weren’t dirty by his standards, but some part of him wanted to try and impress the family. Luckily, once he opened the wardrobe beside his bed, he found various robes that had been hung up and folded inside, and although still casual, were quite a bit more formal than any of the clothes Steven was wearing. Delighted, and after considerable deliberation, he managed to pick out a bright red tunic to go over puffy black pants and a starched white shirt. After tying up the last polished black boot, he tried his best to flatten down his hair that always seemed to stick up no matter what he did. Temporarily giving up, he grabbed his sword and slung it to his side before he left.

He finally managed to get his hands in some water to freshen up and attempt to flatten his hair from a servant’s restroom, but then realized he was in a somewhat unfamiliar part of the castle. The castle grounds were grander than anything Steven had been used to, dwarfing his ex-caretaker’s blacksmith shop. He considered it a miracle when he found the main hall in time to see Ryan ushering some formally dressed children away into another hall. Instantly washed over with relief, Steven sped up his pace to catch up with him.

“Thank god I found you,” Steven muttered, walking by Ryan’s free side. On his other side, a small girl was holding his hand, staring up at him with round blue eyes. She stayed quiet, and none of the children in front of them seemed to notice Steven’s presence.

“Did you get lost already?” Ryan replied amusedly.

“The castle is enormous,” Steven retorted, “And it’s my first time here.”

“And hopefully not your last,” he teased. Steven resisted the urge to jab at him.

The dining hall was just as grand as any other room in the castle, its ceiling raised to the sky above their heads, and the long dining table looked tiny compared to the size of the room it was in. The table was centered with almost too much walking space around it, tall banners bearing the Ilnyckyj family crest adorned the walls, and the kingdom colours draped down every surface. The table was equally as breathtaking as the rest of the room, holding every type of meat and soup and vegetable and bread Steven had heard of in addition to others he never knew existed. Candles flickered and threw shadows on the table, illuminating the faces of the King and Queen already sitting across from each other.

“Ah,” the Queen cooed, swiftly standing up and going around the table to greet Steven. “You must be the contestant! We’re very pleased to meet you.” Steven blinked at her delicately woven hair and the band of gold circling her head, along with the intricate embroidery and lace fluttering around her from her dress. He almost forgot his manners as such a marvelous creature approached him.

“Your Highness,” he bowed, kneeling and taking her hand to kiss her knuckles. Her laugh twinkled like tiny bells, softly ebbing away as she waited for him to stand up again.

“Your seat is over by the children,” she informed him as she gestured towards one of the empty seats, near where Ryan was currently helping the small girl he was holding hands with into her spot. “Oh, and Ryan, dear,” she called, immediately garnering Ryan’s attention. “You’re welcome to sit and eat with us.”

“It would be my greatest honour, Your Highness…” Ryan trailed off, unsure of his authority to sit at the table with royalty.

“You do so much with the children, of course you’re welcome. The harvest brings plenty of good food, and what good is it when you cannot share it?”

“Yes, thank you, Your Highness,” Ryan bowed quickly, taking the seat beside the small girl. Steven could see the excitement light in the children’s eyes as Ryan sat down with them. Steven followed in suit, taking the seat directly beside his newfound friend.

“It’s a pleasure to be dining with you, Your Majesty,” Steven spoke up again, bowing his head to the King at the other end of the table. The King was about as large as a bear, his figure intimidating with the enormous robes and furs draping him. A shining crown covered his head and a magnificent beard hid his face, but his eyes twinkled happily.

“We’re glad you’re finally here,” he beamed. “Andrew has been getting out of hand lately as he’s grown, and we really needed someone to whip him into shape.” He nodded his head towards the final empty chair at the table between the second eldest boy and the King himself, just across from Steven. It was evident Andrew hadn’t made it to the meal yet.

“You by no means have to take care of his every need,” the Queen added, making herself comfortable once again in her own spot. “We only hired you as his personal guard.”

“It’s quite alright, Your Highness,” Steven assured. “Prince Andrew already thinks otherwise.”

“Oh?” she inquired. “Have you two met already?”

“Ah well… I did pass him on my way to my quarters-”

Just before Steven could finish his statement, the hall doors slammed open. Everyone at the table turned around to see who had entered, only to notice Prince Andrew’s figure standing confidently in the center of the doorway. He strode towards the dining table and the large doors swung back behind him, echoing as they closed.

Prince Andrew pulled out his own chair himself, sitting himself down and waiting expectantly for his meal. His clothes were still dirtied, and there was something smeared across his face. Hair fell out of its place and over his forehead, just falling short of his stern eyes.

“This is no way the successor of the King and Queen should act,” the King roared frustratedly. Prince Andrew didn’t even bother glancing at him, more preoccupied with the food being set out in front of him by a servant.

“You’re already 19 years of age, we expect better of you, Andrew,” the Queen sighed, ignoring her own meal for the moment. Steven nodded his thanks to the servant serving his own meal, yet wouldn’t touch his food until the Royal family did. “The cook complained of your negligence earlier this afternoon.”

“She had it coming to her,” Andrew smirked, his nose lifted slightly and his eyes half-lidded. As soon as the servant went to go serve someone else, Andrew picked up his utensils and eagerly dug into his meal.

“Well, you should at least try and behave now that your new personal guard is here to join us,” she chided.

“Personal servant,” he corrected, lazily chewing his food.

“Personal guard,” the Queen corrected him with a sterner voice. “He does not need to follow your commands when you’re like this. Where in _God’s name_ were you just now anyhow?” Her nose wrinkled at Andrew’s dirtied clothes.

He shrugged. “Training. Like a powerful King should be.”

“ _Princes_ ,” the King emphasized, “also have to balance etiquette and politics with training.”

Prince Andrew scoffed. “You’re just a bore.”

“I would like to apologize for Andrew’s behaviour,” the Queen hastily addressed Steven. Andrew was obviously ignoring them now. “I hope he wasn’t like this when you first met him.”

“Well,” Steven’s eyes trailed to Prince Andrew, choosing his words carefully, “I believe he meant to give a rather warm welcome.” Andrew briefly choked on his food, reaching for his goblet of wine in the hopes that it would clear his throat. A few of his siblings tittered and giggled at his reaction. The Queen, however, simply beamed.

“Is that so?” she murmured. “I’m glad to hear about that.”

At last, the King and Queen held their utensils and began to eat. Steven was starved from all of the excitement from the day so far, so he did his best to follow what everyone else was doing with their utensils so as to not seem rude. The food was exquisite and nothing like anything Steven had had before. Somewhere else in the building, the voices of an all-men’s choir rang out and echoed to the dining hall.

“As you saw in our letter,” the Queen spoke up again, sipping at her wine, “We were all very impressed with your performance at the latest sparring competition.”

“I was actually wondering about that, Your Highness,” Steven spoke up, staring at the piece of pork he was cutting a piece off of. “I didn’t win the competition. Why choose me of all the other competitors? I barely managed to get out of the match with what I received.” He dipped his head to indicate his leg, which he could still feel as heavily bandaged. “How would that count as a win in battle? I was not the first to draw blood in the match.”

“We didn’t just watch the winning matches,” she gushed, glancing around to the rest of her family. “We witnessed many of your previous matches as well. Your skill is utterly incomparable to anyone else your age, as if it’s some marvelous combination of both experience and pure talent. And it’s not to say winners cannot draw blood; have you never before seen our successful warriors who return back to the kingdom?”

“You looked so cool out there with your armor!” one of the middle boys exclaimed, with one of his sisters nodding in agreement.

“And your recovery after you lost your balance that one time!” another one of the girls added. “How you rolled up to your feet again and matched your opponent! I want to learn how to do that!”

“How are you going to do that with a bow and arrow, Yulia?” one of her older brothers piped up accusingly.

“Just the same as he did,” Yulia pouted. “You thought he was impressive too, didn’t you, Andriy?”

“I wasn’t watching,” Andrew responded lightly, biting into another forkful of meat.

“Your armor and weapons are rather unique,” the Queen pondered. “Who crafted them for you?”

“Oh, I crafted them for myself,” Steven admitted, trying to remain humble. “The blacksmith took me in when I arrived to your kingdom, so I took up his craft.”

“They’re very impressive,” the second eldest son admitted.

“I think they’re quite pretty,” one of the girls commented.

“You also have talent in your handiwork, I see,” the Queen noted, “But better yet: we have an excellent blacksmith here at the castle to craft your armory and weaponry from now on.”

Steven didn’t want to offend the family, so he bowed his head slightly before speaking up again. “If it would be no issue to you, Your Highness, I would rather be able to craft on my own, as I am more familiar with my needs and skill.”

The Queen laughed. “Of course! Do give old Yegor a chance, but we’ll see what we can do,” she winked, committing a promise with her words.

The King suddenly placed his utensils down, voice booming over everyone else’s. “Ah, I have forgotten to introduce my family,” he remembered, looking kindly to Steven.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I have also forgotten to introduce myself,” Steven replied, wiping off his mouth with a napkin before standing up politely. “My name is Steven Lim, and I am to be Prince Andrew’s personal guard from tonight hereon. My sister and I were brought up to your kingdom from a few islands in the Far East a little more than a decade ago, and I have been training to become a better fighter ever since then.”

“There’s no need for you to explain yourself,” the King assured, despite the tittering from his children at mentions of Steven being from the Far East. Steven sat back down. “We already know of you from the competition. We may as well introduce you to the family so that you may be acquainted with us.

“Starting from the eldest,” the King waved his hand over to Prince Andrew, “We have my son Andriy-” _(Steven found it amusing that Andrew preferred the more English-sounding version of his name. There were quite a few Anglo settlers within the kingdom that had migrated over to the Slavic area over the past few hundred years, so they were quite familiar with the accent.)_ “My second eldest son Ivan, my daughter Anna, my sons Oleksander and Maksym, and my youngest daughters Yulia and Sofia.”

“It’s an honour to meet you all,” Steven bowed his head down to the other princes and princesses, turning to smile at Ryan. “They do all seem like angels.”

“You speak so highly of the children,” the Queen gushed to Ryan.

As the children continued to chatter to each other and Ryan, Steven began to slow in his feasting. His eyes scanned the table, watching the family interact and eat. While they had a different atmosphere and manner about them than anyone else Steven had ever interacted with, they still held a slight informalness with each other. Both the King and the Queen sounded delighted to hear what had happened with the children during the day. The only other person at the table who remained silent was Prince Andrew.

Steven’s eyes drifted over to the Prince in question, immersed in how, though he was finished eating, he played with his food, quietly listening to the rest of the chatter around him. His figure was partially hidden by a porcelain pot that held various flowers and grasses as a centerpiece, and light from the candles threw mysterious shadows across his face. Cheekbones were highlighted on his structure, and the lack of stubble gave his face a boyish roundness to it. Though it was still messy, his honey-coloured hair was clean cut and handsome. His stern dark eyes followed the fork as it moved around his plate, trailing gravy in its path. Steven barely noticed his line of sight flicker up and meet with Steven’s gaze. He had to glance away again hurriedly to pretend like he wasn’t staring, laughing absently at something Ryan had said.

The seeds that had been planted by the royal letter earlier found sunlight and began to sprout, filling Steven’s chest and momentarily taking the breath out of him. Its vines felt unthreatening at this point in time, but Steven could barely feel the tip of a leaf curling around the edge of his heart.

 

* * *

 

It was already a few hours into the night, and Steven was dozing in a plush armchair that sat between his and Prince Andrew’s chambers. He was still wearing his meal clothes, and there was an open book in his lap that Ryan had left for him. His Ukrainian reading was not quite up to par with any native educated individual, but he was willing to try and improve it.

His head lolled to the side, effectively startling him and making him blink his eyes open again. His eyes were rather accustomed to the darkened hallway by now, and he caught sight of a figure stopped dead in its tracks, as if it had previously been approaching him. Sitting up rigidly, Steven slammed the book in his lap closed and pushed it to an adjacent glass table.

“Prince Andrew?” he whispered, slowly standing up from his spot, his hands still grasping the arms of the chair.

“That’s _Master_ to you,” Andrew sneered, suddenly turning back to his snarky self. His voice had lowered a few octaves, and the change of tone almost made Steven step back. Andrew’s posture relaxed, and he turned around to go into his own room.

“Where were you?” Steven collected himself, scolding as he followed the Prince. “It’s way past when you should have been asleep, and you disappeared without a word after evening meal-”

“Don’t speak so impolitely to me,” Andrew snapped, swivelling on a heel to face him. “You sound just like Mother.”

“I’ve been hired to be your personal guard, but how am I supposed to follow orders when you’re never around half of the time anyway?” Steven’s words were indignant, and he could care less what the self-entitled Prince would think. “The King is right: there’s so much you need to get into that head of yours, and you’re in no position to even _think_ about become the next King if you behave like this!” Andrew’s face, while remaining serious, was frozen in shock. “I can’t believe that you’re my age, to top it all off. I don’t know what kind of privilege you were exposed to, but that doesn’t excuse you to be some sort of self-entitled ass!”

Steven finally finished his ranting, panting heavily as if he had run a mile. It was now dead silent in the room save for Steven’s breaths, and he could even hear his heartbeat all the way up into his ears.

“I’m going to tell them that you said that to me.” Andrew’s statement was deadly low and even, yet Steven could somewhat sense a flicker of fear from Andrew’s eyes.

“No, you will not,” Steven told him slowly, as if it were a fact. He crossed his arms and squared his shoulders, using his height to his advantage as he stared down at the Prince. Though he held a bit more height than the Prince, Andrew was built stronger than he was. Even so, Andrew refrained from doing anything, tearing his gaze away from Steven’s piercing eyes.

“No matter,” he decided, turning around and heading towards his tall West-facing windows. “You’re just my servant, after all.”

“I was told I would be your guard,” Steven reminded him sternly.

“Oh, really?” the Prince glanced back, smirking momentarily at Steven. He suddenly threw the glass doors to the balcony outside open, letting a cold autumn breeze chill Steven to the bone.

“I don’t even know what a personal servant is meant to do,” Steven retorted, clenching his teeth in a desperate attempt to get used to the sudden drop in temperature.

Andrew stepped up to the middle of his room, holding his arms out as if he was welcoming him, save for the cocky expression on his face. “Then just do what _you think_ a personal servant would do.”

Steven almost completely forgot how to breathe in those few moments as his brain processed the Prince’s request. The breeze returned, rustling the drapes behind Andrew and making the hair on Steven’s arms stand up. Clenching his fists at his sides, he stared at what he could see of Andrew’s softly moonlit figure, deciding how best he should resolve the situation.

Of course, some petty part of him wanted to turn around right there and head back to his own room, but then he began to question what his job would really entail. After all, it was quite heavily implied that he was there to help Prince Andrew in one way or another, but he also just _really wanted to sleep_.

Striding up to the Prince with all of the confidence he could muster, he moved around to his back, hands already working to unclasp the thin cape Andrew had on.

“As you wish, _Master_ ,” he murmured somewhat mockingly, just as his face was situated right by Andrew’s ear. As he put his hands to work deftly on the first layer of his shirt, he could feel the intimidated shiver that made the Prince’s strong back quiver underneath his fingertips. It gave him an overwhelming sensation of satisfaction to have gained that subconscious respect from the Prince so soon.

There were many layers that Steven had to get through, but Andrew remained dead silent throughout the entire interaction, staring off to God knows where. In all honesty, Steven found it ridiculous that rich people needed so many dressings. He loosened the last blouse the Prince had on and began to tug it off his arms and torso. Though it wasn’t as obviously dirtied as the most outer layers, it still stank of sweat.

“You never answered my question,” Steven said coolly, trying to get the last blouse over Andrew’s head. His finger accidentally brushed one of the taut muscles in his shoulder, eliciting the Prince’s entire back to twitch.

“I don’t have to answer your questions,” he spat out. Steven vaguely wondered if part of his brashness was perhaps due to his reaction to his skin contact.

“I was wondering where you had gone after evening meal,” he pondered, rubbing some flaking mud on Andrew’s neck with his thumb. He squirmed away from Steven’s touch, yet stayed silent. “There’s only so many things a Prince does to get this filthy.”

“Training.”

The answer was rather quiet for Steven to hear it properly compared to the boastful voice the Prince usually used with him. “What?”

Andrew cleared his throat. “Training. The ground was slippery today. I fell once or twice.”

Steven beamed. “It’s good practice for balance,” he advised. Crouching down, he moved on to untie his boot laces. Andrew didn’t seem to have anything more to say on that point, so Steven tried to think of something else to say. “Why were you training?”

“ _Why_ was I training?” he parroted, curious as to why Steven was so interested. Steven nodded, loosening the laces of the boot so it could be tugged off.

“Everyone has a reason to train,” Steven told him. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t train at all.”

“I need to be fit enough to be the next King,” Andrew whispered, just under his breath. Steven barely caught on to what he was saying.

“Are you sure that’s what you’re training for?”

Andrew hummed, neither denying nor agreeing with Steven’s question.

“Well, I don’t suppose I need to know right away,” he thought to himself, pulling off the other boot. “Regardless,” he stated, grabbing the hem of his pants and pulling them off, “You’re going to have to wash off.”

“A servant always leaves the basin full of water in the bathroom,” Andrew said, gesturing over to an adjacent room.

“Alright,” Steven nodded, standing up and throwing aside the dirtied clothes. He moved away from the Prince, spotting a velvet bathrobe hung up on a post and going to retrieve it. When he faced Andrew again, he noticed that the Prince was staring at him confusedly, as if Steven hadn’t finished his job properly.

“Did I do something wrong?” Steven asked innocently, tilting his head to the side. The Prince seemed to want to say a few things, but would end up closing his mouth again.

“Well…” he managed to croak, thinking of how to get his ideas across.

“Since I’m technically your _guard_ and not your _servant_ ,” Steven stated pointedly, holding out the bathrobe, “I will let you keep some of your _dignity_.” As he said that, his eyes dipped lower and lower, letting his sight roam across Andrew’s broad and muscular chest, dipping down even lower to his belly. Though the moonlight was sparse, from the angle that the Prince stood, it pooled down his chest and highlighted every curve and bit of chest hair. Steven couldn’t help the teasing grin that slipped as his eye line trailed down to the hem of his undergarments.

“ _I understand_ ,” Andrew growled, marching forward and stealing the bathrobe sharply from Steven’s grasp. Steven had to put all of his remaining energy into not bursting out into laughter at the face Andrew was making as he slipped on the bathrobe himself.

“I’ll go heat up the water for you and prepare the bath,” he bowed slightly, “As I understand you would also like to take the bath alone.” The Prince glared at him as he left.

As he lit the fire underneath the basin built into the wall, he rummaged through the smaller washroom, searching for any types of soaps that the Prince could use and left them out. There were some fluffy towels folded neatly on a bench just beside the basin, and Steven organized the few soaps he found beside them. Once the bathwater felt hot enough to the touch, he quelled the flames of the fire underneath, letting the embers glow to keep the water warm for at least a little while longer.

By the time he was satisfied with his handiwork and ability to work with fire, he found Prince Andrew’s figure leaning on the door frame, watching Steven’s every move with his arms crossed. Steven stood up and brushed ash off his pants.

“The bath is ready… _Master_ ,” he tacked on at the end, stepping to the side to let Andrew pass. He pushed himself off of the wall at Steven’s statement, going over to check the water temperature for himself. Shaking his hand of water, he looked rather impressed.

“You’re very good with the fire.”

“Of course,” Steven smirked, “I worked as a smithy for a living. I’ll go and prepare your bed and bedclothes then,” he excused himself, closing the bathroom door behind him.

Once there was a wall between them, Steven let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding and tiredly rubbed his eyes. Dealing with the Prince was more exhausting than he had bargained for, and just his general attitude was chipping and tearing away at his patience. At least he had gotten him somewhat under his reigns that night.

His first line of business was to close the windowed doors, but as he shut them he could not help becoming utterly enchanted with the view. Not minding the temperature any longer, he stepped out precariously onto the balcony, lightly touching the banister with the tips of his fingers.

Just underneath the balcony a few stories down was a quaint little garden, not disturbed by passersby or even many servants. It was overgrown only a little, and vines crawled up the smaller wall stopping it from reaching any further than the limits of the garden. The castle walls themselves were not actually part of that tiny garden wall, yet dropped down the cliff right after the garden and made them seem shorter than they actually were. Just beside the walls, Steven could catch a glimpse of wildflower fields and rolling farms. Beyond the walls, the lake extended almost to the horizon, only stopped by a wall of mountains barely peeking above the shimmering lake. Steven marveled to wonder how the sight would look with the sun setting behind those mountains.

A night wind caught the window, making it creak further open and startling Steven out of his reverence. He stepped back, scanning the landscape one more time before closing the windows, leaving the drapes open a crack so it wouldn’t flood the room with light in the morning.

Every plant within the tiny garden was starting to brown, if their flowers were not closed for the night. It almost helped Steven realized how the plant inside its chest from earlier in the day was weakening slightly despite it being so new, where just the tip of a leaf browning.          

Stumbling backwards, Steven tried his best to shake the uneasiness he felt and went to go find clean night robes for the Prince. .

Knocking once on the bathroom door, Steven still entered without permission, only wanting to leave the clothes before he left again. He refrained from glancing up, but he could hear the water slosh around as Prince Andrew reacted to Steven’s entrance.

“I’ve brought you a change of clothes,” Steven announced, moving to drop them on a table beside the door. The water splashed a bit more, and he took the chance to peek up at Andrew. The basin was large enough that the walls covered most of his body, but Andrew’s arm was hanging out lazily over the side and his hair was slicked back with water.

“Thank you,” he murmured, quietly watching Steven.

“I’ll be waiting for you when you get out,” Steven bowed awkwardly, turning to leave again. Only after he closed the door did he blink, processing that Prince Andrew of all people had thanked him. Smiling triumphantly, he went over to the bed to light a candle and prepare it for the Prince once he was finished bathing.

It wasn’t too much longer until Andrew stepped out, hair still sticking to the side of his face. Steven stood up from where he was sitting, waiting for him to get out. He beckoned him to the bed, lifting heavy fur blankets for the Prince to get in. Andrew stared at him for a little while longer before obliging, letting himself be tucked in.

“Tell me a story,” the Prince ordered, gazing up at Steven from where he was hiding under the covers. It was as if he had aged down to a young boy, being so small compared to the large bed he was in.

“I can tell you about how I arrived to this kingdom,” Steven offered, sitting down on the armchair at his bedside.

“Sounds boring,” Andrew whined, making Steven wince. He tried his best to keep his composure, knowing that he would be able to sleep as soon as Andrew was satisfied.

“Well…” Steven forced out, grimacing, “There once was a self-centered prince in a grand kingdom… and one day… he woke up to find…” He was finding it hard to pull a story out of his ass on such short notice.

“Find?” he asked, urging him to continue.

“The story to be continued,” Steven decided, standing up.

Andrew’s face scrunched up. “You can’t do that.”

“I sure as hell can,” he told him, “Plus I need to go clean out the bath.”

“There will be a servant to empty the water in the morning.”

“The coals won’t put out themselves.” And with that, Steven left the Prince to sleep, going to clean up what he could then in the bathroom.

Once he exited the bathroom, he went over to grab the candle at the Prince’s bedside. Andrew’s figure was turned over and his breaths were regulated, obviously having fallen asleep from the exhaustion of the day. His blankets sloped over him, concealing him from the flickering light of the candle.

Only when Steven closed the tall doors to the Prince’s chamber did Andrew blink open his eyes, huddling deeper into his mattress and pillows as he thought to himself.

 

* * *

 

It was well before the cock crowed that Steven woke up, and the tiny window that he had barely let any light filter through. Though he had finally gotten to sleep later than he would have liked to, he didn’t require as much sleep as most people would usually like. Plus, he wanted to be able to catch Prince Andrew before he snuck out of his grasp again.

Checking the dressings on his calf, he rewrapped it for probably one of the last times now, as it was almost completely sufficiently healed. Steven grimaced as he thought of the nasty scar it would leave. Not wanting to delve too much into his new wardrobe, he put on a simple wool tunic and sash on, sword slung at his side and ready to go check on the Prince.

Creeping outside, he did his best not to make any noise in case it would give his presence away. Some part of him had a feeling that the Prince would try and bolt if he heard Steven approaching. Passing the armchair he was dozing off in the night previous, he noticed how the large book he had started had been straightened on the adjacent table.

Already seeing the heavy bedroom doors open was already a bad sign in Steven’s book, and he didn’t waste any time as he jogged up to it and slipped through. The drapes had already been pulled open, letting the light from sunrise curl around the castle and spill into the room. Steven pulled his attention over to the bed, and much to his dismay, saw that the bed was not only empty, but had been tidied already.

There was what sounded like movement in the bathroom, and Steven turned to it, his senses heightened. His hand moved to hover over the hilt of his sword by instinct but let it relax when a servant carrying two water buckets came out. They seemed startled to see Steven there, but recovered quick enough to not spill anything on the Prince’s expensive rug.

“Where did he go?” Steven immediately asked, pointing over to the empty bed. The servant glanced to where he was pointing and shrugged.

“The Prince is almost always gone by the time I come to clean up his room, Sir,” they responded, walking over to the door past Steven. “That’s why I’ve started to come earlier.”

“Alright, thank you,” he waved them away, too distracted with the wave of irritability that he was beginning to feel. He could hear the servant rush out after taking the last of Prince Andrew’s dirty clothes from yesterday by throwing them over their shoulder, closing the heavy doors behind them.

As soon as he heard the large doors shut, Steven spun around, angry that he was already failing so badly at his position. _“Dammit! Fuck!”_ he cursed, still wary of being too loud so early in the morning. Before getting the overwhelming urge to punch something, he threaded his fingers through his thin black hair, trying to concentrate instead on what he’d do instead that morning. He knew full well that he probably wouldn’t end up seeing Prince Andrew until —at the very least— the midday meal.

While he wanted to explore the grounds a little more to familiarize himself with them, he decided in the end that it would be more beneficial to do that with Prince Andrew, however much either of them were willing to do so. Instead, he found himself stopping by the Mess Hall to grab a piece of bread and cheese before going on his merry way.

Eating his breakfast outside, he enjoyed the warm autumn sun that still warmed him. Somehow, the Ilnyckyj kids were already up and running around the front yard, Ryan seeming to be chasing one of them. Once he caught up to the kid, he tickled them until they were shrieking and squirming in his arms, pleading for another one of their passing siblings to save them. Steven wondered how they held so much energy that early in the morning.

Seeing that the sun still hung low in the sky, he made his way over to the front gates, deciding that he would go pick up a few more of his items at his sister’s shop. He talked to a waiting guard standing on-duty, asking him to inform Prince Andrew of his whereabouts if he was to be seen, and if he had been seen going out the gates _(he hadn’t)_. Ready to leave for the morning, he made his way down to the town and over the moat.

Steven had only been within the castle walls for a night, yet it was easy to tell the difference between it and the town by the mere atmosphere they held. There was a distinct sense of poverty lining the roads despite the flourishing farmland around them. Everything from the blind kobzar begging from the dying grass, and the two little boys running around him dressed in rags. Not the entire town lived off of so little, but they weren’t quite royalty either. Steven considered himself fortunate that he and his sister were so lucky in growing up with the minimal support they received when they first got there.

His sister’s enchantment shop wasn’t too far from the castle, but it was still a ways away downhill and through winding roads. He was beginning to get to an area that he recognized more and more, even passing on of the spots he would train when he was younger or for an upcoming tournament. Smiling, he reminisced on his motivation to train, vaguely thinking of how the Prince was constantly away training. No wonder he was starting to grow the muscles of a bear.

Villagers began to watch Steven as he walked past, and while he didn’t mind it too much, he really began to wonder what had happened as some women carrying water from the river were giggling about. Subconsciously, he tried patting down his impossible hair again.

An older woman finally pointed to him as she chatted to a younger man, and Steven’s curiosity got the best of him. However, before he could even say anything, he realized that the older woman’s eyes were behind him, even though her shaking finger pointed to his general direction. Standing straighter, he turned around, scanning the dirt road behind him. There was a man on a horse, a woman pulling a cart… and a kid or two sprinting behind the nearest wooden house. Squinting, Steven crept up to where the kids had disappeared.

Steven found it easy to stay quiet out of experience, and found it even less difficult in the broad daylight. He could hear the children whispering and giggling around the corner, and finally squeal when he caught sight of them at last.

“Maksym?” Steven blinked, instantly remembering their faces, “Oleksander? Yulia? What are you three doing here?”

“We were following you, Steven,” Maksym stepped forward, informing him seriously.

Steven was bewildered. “Following me? And why would you do that?”

“We didn’t want you to get lost,” Yulia stated matter-of-factly, holding her arms behind her play dress.

“Don’t lie, Yulia,” Oleksander accused. “You were worried that Steven was already running away.”

Yulia stamped her foot. “Was not! I just followed you two! It was all your idea, since Maksym follows you anywhere you go anyways.”

“Please, don’t fight over this,” Steven begged, crouching down to be at their eye-level. “And Yulia, why would you think I’d be running away when I haven’t brought any of my bags with me?”

“See?” Oleksander boasted, crossing his arms and smirking to his sister. “I told you!”

“You guys shouldn’t have followed me!” Steven scolded, though not quite as harshly as he would have with Andrew. “Ryan will be worrying about you three!”

“No he won’t,” Yulia grinned toothily. “We were playing hide-and-seek, and we’re always the last to be found. They won’t notice anything.”

“We still haven’t told them our best hiding spots yet, so they won’t be able to tell!” Oleksander added. While they weren’t as tiring as Andrew, Steven still sighed and rubbed his face as he thought of what to do.

“But where are you going, Steven?” Maksym tugged at his sleeve, eyes as wide as saucers, “If you’re not running away? And where’s Andriy?”

“I couldn’t find the Prince this morning, so I wanted to pick up a few things from my sister’s shop,” he told them, looking between all of their inquisitive faces, “But since we’re so close, I suppose I can take you all with me.” He held out both of his hands to hold, and all three of them cheered, Yulia and Maksym each grabbing a free hand. Oleksander bounced out in front of them, almost going in the wrong direction or bumping into someone else a few times, much to Steven’s chagrin.

“So you and your sister are from the Far East?” Yulia asked, swinging Steven’s arm. “How long did it take to get here?”

“Probably a few years… it was many years ago from now. The people who bought us thought they were lost, but turns out we just sailed around the Indies and found our way in Arabia. We went around the Silk Road through the Byzantine Empire and Persia before we could cross the Black Sea to here.”

“Arabia?” Yulia screeched, “So cool!”

“You were bought as a kid?” Maksym tugged his arm.

“Of course. My parents were too poor to afford us, so they sold us to some English traders.”

“Is that why you have such an English name?”

“Yep! My sister is probably the only one who remembers our names from where we were born, but the English traders renamed us so they could pronounce our names. They renamed my sister Liz.”

“And we’ll be seeing her today?”

“That’s correct,” Steven nodded, pointing his chin to a wood and straw building that was growing closer to them. “She enchants armor and weapons, along with making smaller spells. It was something she picked up either from my birth mother or on the way to the kingdom. I’m sure I can persuade her to give you a gift.”

The children cheered again at the thought of a gift, dancing around as Steven approached the entrance to the building. He let go of their hands only to swing the door open, ushering the children inside.

Almost immediately, the children became quiet. Their eyes sparkled full of wonder as they drank in all of the knicknacks stacked on various shelves and tables and smelled the many wafting scents from various flowers and burning grasses. Tiny bells tinkled and chimed, and the wind found its way to whistle through the cracks of the walls.

“Steven! I didn’t realize you would be back so soon!” A young woman with her black hair tied to the side appeared out of nowhere, effectively startling the children. She held her arms open to embrace her brother, only to lower them slightly as she saw the children around Steven’s legs. “Steven? Who are they?”

“Oh, sorry Liz… they followed me here,” he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck and stepping to the side. “This is Prince Oleksander, Prince Maksym, and Princess Yulia. Children, this is my sister Liz.”

All traces of confusion left Liz’s face, instead being replaced with the brightest of smiles as she crouched down to greet them. “It’s such an honour to meet such young royalty,” she curtsied, grabbing each of their hands and kissing them gently. “And you two boys! You look very similar, are you twins?”

“Yes!” Oleksander declared proudly, pointing his thumb to his chest, “I’m the older twin!”

“And Yulia!” she turned to the other girl, “You have such a pretty face for a princess, but very strong! Do you train at all?”

“I do!” Yulia nodded eagerly, “Father is teaching me how to use a bow and arrow!”

“Such good children!” she cooed, standing up and going back around to her register. “I must present something to you. Oh, and Steven, you’re welcome to bring your bandura back with you. I’m sure the rest of the children would love to hear it as well.”

“I’ll be back,” he confirmed, heading to the rickety narrow stairs behind her. Looking back, he quickly addressed the children: “Since you followed me all of this way, you should at least be willing to help me carry all of my stuff back to the castle.”

Still hearing the din below, Steven went around his sister’s room to find his gear that she said she had enchanted. Around the room, he found his newly enchanted helmet, spear, battle-axe, and his bandura sitting innocently in the corner. While he preferred using swords, Steven still found amusement in trying out various other weapons in various tournaments. Spotting a dagger of his that was still on her desk, he grabbed it and slid it in his sash. He would come back upstairs to grab his bandura, but with his arms full of various other items, he made his way downstairs.

“You all better help me carry everything back to the castle,” Steven reminded the now wildflower-crown-claden children, dumping his helmet into Yulia’s tiny arms.

“What are you doing?” Liz pried, amusedly watching Oleksander be handed a battle-axe.

Steven shrugged, already making his way back up the stairs. “They followed me here, they may as well help out. I’ll just grab my bandura and I’ll be right back.”

Once he returned with his instrument slung across his back, he came downstairs to find Oleksander and Maksym dancing around with what looked like one of his sister’s enchantment bags in their hands, Liz watching from aside. Yulia had somehow already put on Steven’s helmet, wobbling around with her flower crown precariously balanced on top of her.

“We really have to go back now, kids,” Steven called over their ruckus, grabbing ahold of Yulia’s shoulder before she tripped over a potted plant. “However good your hiding spots are, Ryan’s going to start wondering.”

“Has everything been going okay?” Liz asked him, stepping to his side to speak with him as the children continued to wander around the shop. “It’s already so soon that you’re back to pick up your things… and where’s the Prince?”

“I haven’t been able to find the Prince yet,” Steven admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Well, I met him yesterday, but he always disappears before I can follow him. He says he’s training.”

“Ah, well, that’s a shame. How is he?”

“Absolutely horrible,” Steven grimaced, and Liz laughed at his expression. “Shame such a handsome face has to be wasted with his terrible personality.”

“I’m sure he’ll warm up soon.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah right. I’ll write to you with more details when I get the chance.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“Alright, kids, time to get back to the castle,” Steven called loudly. He reached for his spear and battle axe that weren’t quite being played with as safely as he would have liked, going to the door. “I’ll leave you behind.”

All three of them raced out with him, Liz bidding them goodbye as they ran out. She told all of them to come by any time that they felt like it, and Steven had to promise the kids that he would bring them again sometime later in the week.

The rest of the way back was quite different with the children than before. Yulia still proudly wore Steven’s helmet despite the fact that she had difficulty seeing through it, and Maksym and Oleksander danced around in front of them, knowing the general direction of the castle. Village folk observed their tiny parade as they marched onwards gleefully. A good portion of them realized that they were all tiny princes or princesses and watched in amusement at how childish they remained. Steven couldn’t help but feel utterly proud to be the temporary caretaker of them.

As soon as they reached the castle gates again, Ryan was already waiting near the entrance with Sofia, conflicted between showing worry and disappointment. He seemed somewhat consoled when he realized Steven had been with them the whole time, but not as much when he saw the weapons he carried and the helmet Yulia was hiding under.

With a little bit of help from the children, Steven was able to put his belongings away before they rushed off to their midday meal.

 

* * *

 

No matter what he tried, Steven could not get ahold of Prince Andrew past mealtimes. Every night he came back just before Steven nodded off, not giving any further explanation as to what he was doing other than ‘training’. Steven had asked the Queen and Ryan beforehand if he was that difficult, and turns out he sometimes would forget to turn up for meals during the really warm summer days. Nevertheless, Steven remained determined to figure out where the Prince spent all of his time.

It wasn’t like he spent all of his wasted time moping around either. Most frequently, Steven hung out with Ryan and the children, learning some of their games and getting to know Ryan better himself. When he wasn’t around the children, Steven would wander around the grounds, trying to get to know them better and perhaps even having a chance of finding Prince Andrew amidst his infamous training sessions. What he did wind up finding, however, was Yegor’s blacksmith. As the Queen had promised, Yegor was eager in allowing Steven to use his shop to work. Turns out Yegor was a charm to get along with as well.

A good week had passed before Steven actively tried various new tactics to track down the mysterious Prince.

 

* * *

 

_The perks of exerting so much energy throughout the day meant that one could sleep soundly throughout the night and recover that energy in a short amount of time. That, and regular afternoon naps did the trick like nothing else._

_As per usual, Andrew woke up before the sun even hinted at dawn, despite the fact that he had gotten to bed so late once again. He wasn’t quite wide awake yet, and the large empty bed was warm and cozy to his sore limbs._

_Though all of his limbs were completely stretched out, all he could feel was_ bed _. It felt oddly lonely, being lost in the expanse of silk sheets. He was somewhat used to it all now, of course, but part of the reason he got up so early was so that he could be up and running about all day. It was in his blood to be out all day and out in the sun, working and training. Andrew curled up, burying his face into his pillow._

_For some reason, that night didn’t feel as lonely as it usually did. Steven would usually leave during the night to sleep, and then Andrew would be left alone with all of his thoughts and bed. Being cruel to others became somewhat of a defence mechanism to him, but it also made him feel somewhat at fault. Like it was his fault that Steven went to go sleep in his own room at night._

_Turning all the way over, his breath caught in his chest as he blinked, seeing the figure still draped in the armchair at his bedside. The candle on the nightstand was burning low, obviously having been forgotten during the night. Andrew sat all the way up in his bed._

_Steven was still in his clothes from the day before, refusing to have gone back - or perhaps too exhausted to leave his spot. His head was propped up by the cushioned back, and his eyes were gently fluttered closed. Andrew could probably count his eyelashes if he leaned forward enough. Soft little breaths lifted his structure lightly and let it fall, giving him the rest and peace he lacked during the day._

_“Why are you trying so hard to find me?” Andrew murmured, whispering quietly as if it was a secret Steven shouldn’t hear. The question hung in the air as he gazed at his proclaimed servant, dying candlelight being the only source to illuminate his features. Steven shifted in his sleep momentarily before relaxing again._

_With the least amount of noise possible, Andrew crawled out of his blankets, throwing them to side as he let his legs dangle over the edge of the bed. The bed frame creaked as he shifted his weight, but by some miracle, Andrew managed to get out of his bed and around Steven without any disturbance. Perhaps that miracle was overexhaustion._

_It wasn’t too hard to shed his bed clothes and gather lightly-fitting gear for the day. He had done so every morning previous, and knew the ins and outs of the castle itself at the crack of dawn. His servant didn’t seem to mind either, as he was still quite unconscious the entire time Andrew changed his clothes._

_Creeping up to him, Andrew had to check one more time that Steven wasn’t just feigning sleep. “Hey, Steven,” he called gently, just underneath his breath, garnering his attention. To his relief, Steven didn’t even twitch in his sleep, and kept on breathing peacefully. Andrew noted, however, that his head tilted and his breath became somewhat more forward when his name was mentioned. It was as if he was still trying to reach out to Andrew in his sleep, despite the fact that he still couldn’t break out of his reverie._

_Satisfied with his response, Andrew fled to his window, sure that that morning would not change despite Steven’s determination to do so. He pulled open the drapes and quietly unfastened the clasps for the window, feeling the cool morning wind trickle over his exposed skin._

_“Better luck next time,” Andrew said boldly, slightly louder than before. The only response he got was the wind whistling from behind him, beckoning him to leave._

_Turning around, he left his room from his balcony._

 

* * *

 

Yegor intently watched Steven’s hands, deftly working at their practice. His hammer strokes were much gentler now, carefully molding the new shining sword exactly to how he envisioned it. Concentration radiated from Steven, rising like the waves of heat before him.

“That should be good now,” Steven announced, setting down the hammer to the side with a _clank_. The metal still glowed with heat. “I’ll sharpen it with the wheel as soon as it’s almost cool. You have very nice metal here.”

“Very pure iron,” Yegor confirmed. He rubbed his thick beard, processing Steven’s skill. “So young but with much talent. You are good with the metal. Very good support.”

“Yes, but I try and keep the flexibility of the sword so that it does not break so easily.”

“Ah yes. I see. And your other weapons?”

“I bring them to my sister,” Steven shrugged. “She enchants them. My regular sword has a bit of protection in it and a lot of fluidity.”

“Ah.”

“I might want to bring this one to her. It would make a good practice sword. Would you like me to bring anything of yours for her to enchant?”

“Is she good?” Yegor asked, gruff voice naturally judgemental. Steven already felt comfortable enough around him that he didn’t feel offended. After all, the round smithy was quite the sweetheart when they chatted while working.

“Very good,” he assured. “She has also been practicing since we were younger. She might have even learned some of her magic back in the Far East.”

Yegor squinted his eyes before they twinkled friendly. “I’ll trust you,” he bellowed, roaring out a short laugh. He patted down his apron, wiping off his hands. Steven mimicked him, finding a clean-enough rag to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. “So you still can’t find the Prince?”

“No,” Steven grumbled. “It’s almost been two weeks and I’ve only been with you and the other children. I can never find him past mealtimes.”

“What does he say he does?”

“Training. Always training, but I’ve looked all over the castle, and I still can’t find him.”

“Ah,” Yegor thought to himself, “ _training_.”

“Exactly! And no one ever sees him leave the castle, but he completely disappears into thin air!”

“He said training, no?” Yegor mused, picking up a bucket. “Well, come with me,” he decided, handing Steven another bucket. “We need more charcoal.”

“Oh,” Steven nodded, grabbing it immediately and following Yegor out through a backdoor he had barely even noticed before. “Of course.”

It was enough for Steven to jog to quickly catch up as Yegor was trying to get through the smaller door. The door itself led to a rather narrow and closed-in stone hallway that went on for as long as Steven could see. Dim as it was, Yegor still seemed to be able to navigate it perfectly.

“This is a servants’ hallway,” Yegor explained, gesturing briefly to another wooden door that would lead elsewhere. “One end you have servants’ quarters, down the hall everything from cooks to infirmary, and at the other end is the stable and servants’ Mess Hall.”

“Oh. I always wondered why I didn’t see as many servants.”

Yegor guffawed. “Of course. We must stay invisible. Like the ghosts of the castle.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Steven admitted, impression somehow making the dingy and mildew-smelling hallway better than it actually was. “Is this the only one?”

“At least one on every floor. Three on bottom floor. But now, we’re going to just get charcoal.”

“Oh, right.”

“The carts bring everything to the stables, so we have to get it there.”

“Ah, okay.”

The end of the hallway began to grow lighter, and Steven could also begin to feel a faint wind despite the boiling afternoon. Blinking, it took him awhile to realize that the hallway opened directly outside, the walls becoming thick stone pillars that held the rest of the structure up. Yegor nodded politely to a passing maiden who was carrying a basket full of laundry.

While the stable could be seen just up ahead, there was a loud noise of something being thrown into a wood wall, and Steven stopped abruptly. Yegor only looked amused. Pulling Steven behind a pillar, he pointed over to behind a small stone shack only a few meters other side of the pillars.

“I believe your Prince is still training,” Yegor beamed, his low voice barely above a whisper. He watched Steven’s shock with amusement before taking the other bucket from his hands and leaving him to gape.

Once Yegor had left him, Steven crept up to stand against the pillar, feeling the coolness of the stone against his cheek and hand. He could hear movement behind the stone shack, and whoever was there managed to yank whatever they threw out from the wood. No wonder Steven hadn’t found this place: maybe twenty or so meters from the shack stood the castle walls, and the rest of the space was enclosed by what Steven assumed was a wooden wall and the back of the stables. It was isolated from everywhere Steven had been exposed to thus far.

A figure finally moved away from the shield of the stone shack, but Steven didn’t have enough time to see any more of them as he hid himself all the way behind the pillar, sucking in his breath. The footsteps sounded like they were coming closer, crunching in the crisp green grass and the few dead leaves that scattered the ground. Steven held his breath, driving himself further up the stone pillar. They stopped, and his head was light in the warm air. He hoped that no one would find him like that, as he would find it rather hard to explain what the hell he was actually doing.

The footsteps ran now, but across from where Steven was hiding. Another loud thunk resounded as something else hit the wooden wall. All of the air left Steven’s lungs, and he took the chance to peek around the post to watch the Prince as he was training.

Managing to catch just a glimpse of his figure before he disappeared behind the stone shack again, Steven moved as quickly as he could to the next post, hiding himself efficiently before trying to peek around it again. There was a tiny bit more visibility, but not quite enough.

This process of running and hiding behind posts continued until Steven finally reached the last one, right before it opened up to the stables. He could see Prince Andrew’s figure now as he moved around and danced with various axes around in the area. Every once in a while, he’d throw one to a wooden wall that lined another smaller stone wall behind it. It looked like a training range used for guards and possibly other higher ranking officers, but the Prince had completely monopolized the area now.

Deciding that he needed a better view and that peeking every once in a while was too exhausting, Steven spotted a few wooden crates and hay stacks that lined the back stable walls, the space minimal between the two. Very little consideration went through him as he nimbly sprinted to the haystacks, doing his best to make as little noise as possible.

The straw provided a cool, comfortable, and relatively clean hiding area, as well as a shield from the Prince’s eyes. Steven was a bit wary at first about how much the crates and hay hid him, but when Prince Andrew still didn’t notice him after standing even a meter or two from the haystacks, Steven relaxed and rested his chin on his forearms as he watched.

Prince Andrew had stripped down to a loose shirt and pants. His boots and socks were already off to the side, and both his sleeves and pant legs were rolled up from the early autumn heat. The back of his shirt was drenched in sweat as it stuck to his back, and Steven could tell that his head wasn’t faring any better as Andrew wiped his shining forehead, slicking his hair back. Steven had to admit that it was quite a sight to be reckoned with.

Andrew’s movements were fluid, arm muscles shifting as he held each different weapon. His feet kept better grip and balance on the grass. Not only that, but the form he held as he threw another axe to the wooden wall left Steven entranced.

Steven began to wonder why he trained again. When he initially asked, the Prince had muttered something about becoming the next King. While Steven didn’t believe him, he could already tell that the Prince took his training quite seriously. It all looked like a dance with its grace, but the concentration on Andrew’s face said otherwise. As he stopped to rest and stretch, Steven’s mind wandered as to what could possibly compel him to train so hard.

Prince Andrew must have also been thinking about his reason, because quite abruptly, he picked up an adjacent axe and spun around, throwing it to the wall with such aggressive force that it admittedly terrified Steven. _Never_ had he ever seen such malice put into one throw.

The throw itself wasn’t what made him want to shout. A younger servant carrying another basket of laundry was walking across that wall, heading to the front of that stone shack. The axe had barely missed her head, and her scream rang through the air as Steven clamped his own mouth shut. The poor girl was shaking like a leaf, staring at her dropped laundry with horror.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing over there?” the Prince barked, making the servant jump back as she tried throwing clothes into her basket as quickly as she possibly could.

“I- I’m sorry, Master.” Her voice shook almost as much as she was.

“Must be new. Don’t get in my way again.”

The Prince’s attitude absolutely infuriated Steven, but he held his tongue in order to keep his cover. Whatever magic spell that had been cast instantly burst like a bubble, and Steven had to sit there, stewing in his anger. He watched the poor girl finally run off into the shadows, probably eternally terrified of the Prince from then on.

Prince Andrew was rather shocked when Steven’s hands were not as careful as they usually were that night as he derobed him.

 

* * *

 

That next morning, Steven just barely managed to catch Prince Andrew scaling and leaping over the stone wall where the training range would have been after the midday meal. The smaller wall itself was already behind a few structures - including beside the main castle - so it was no wonder that no one really saw where he went.

After the evening meal, Prince Andrew was nowhere to be found once again. It frustrated Steven to no end to have him slip out of his grasp after just finding him, but him getting angry that the Prince wasn’t training wasn’t going to get him anywhere. After all, he needed breaks too.

Of course, Steven went to go take a quick look at the space that Andrew trained. He didn’t touch anything in the thought that Andrew would somehow notice, but he really took a good look at what type of weapons he trained with.

Most of them were worn and well loved, while some were even starting to rust without proper care. After all, being laid out in the grass or stacked by the stone shack wasn’t the best way to store the metal weapons. Steven made a mental note to explicitly teach Andrew some care for his equipment. Other than the metal itself, the grips were also wearing through completely. They were probably old and second hand, and probably a product of Yegor’s (as Steven had to admit Yegor’s experience really paid off in his work). Either way, they apparently still functioned well enough for the Prince’s regimen.

Not needing to stay any longer, Steven ended up wandering back to their rooms on the rare chance that Andrew had already retreated to bed for the evening. It was already growing darker, and the sun was already starting to set behind the lake. He had to strain his eyes a little as he made his way through some of the dimmer passages.

Once he made it to the Prince’s room, he wasn’t surprised to see the bed still perfectly made and the entire chamber completely empty. Softly shutting the door behind himself, he wandered further into the room, deciding that he could perhaps get a head start on organizing the area. Striking a match, Steven went around to light some of the lanterns so that he could see what he was doing.

Shaking out the match before it burned his fingertips, he wandered over to the tall windows for the balcony. Disposing of the used match, he did his best to unlatch the windows, letting them creak open as he ambled outside.

Dusk seeped into every bit of the rugged landscape in front of him. The lake glittered as per usual, and the painted sky doused Steven in orange light. If he listened very closely, Steven could almost hear the rush of the water in the distance. Fresh but dying foliage filled his nose, enhancing the scene with its earthy scent. Leaning forward, he gazed at the setting with his forearms resting on the balcony banister.

Though the footfalls were soft, Steven heard the grass crunch in the abandoned garden below him. He retreated from his stance a bit to hide himself, but immediately turned his attention to the newcomer only a two floors down from himself.

The Prince’s figure was striding through the garden, moving over towards the smaller garden wall that was drowned in ivy. His walk was as regal as a peacock, with his hands clasped behind his back and his chin held high. Even his clothes were looking better groomed than when he had been training earlier that morning. He failed to realize that Steven was watching, too entranced by the setting sun.

Andrew turned ninety degrees to inspect some flowers, and Steven dropped down to peek from behind the columns of the balcony railing instead. He preferred that Andrew didn’t know he was watching his every move, as there was a possibility he could get a better insight on the Prince out of this moment.

A hand came up to delicately cup one of the larger flowers. He scrutinized it, studying its features blankly. Lost in thought, he played with it for a bit, rolling it between his fingers. Steven narrowed his eyes, trying his best to discern what exactly the Prince’s intent was.

Deciding something quite suddenly, Andrew’s hand crushed the flower. Steven’s eyes widened as he saw Andrew twist and turn the flower from its stem around, further mutilating it. Somewhere from the back of his mind, Steven remembered one of the first conversations with the Prince. He couldn’t help but feel empathy for the flower as its carcass drifted down by Andrew’s foot.

The Prince didn’t stop there, and in a sudden burst of confusion, swiped at the entire flower bunch, tearing at their stems. He was right about them being so close to death with winter arriving, but Steven would argue that they still had so many days to stay bright and colourful. It was as if the Prince’s hands had managed to swipe the tiny plant budding in his chest, ripping it from where it had clung on to.

When he did stop, Andrew stepped back, panting and running his hands through his hair. His steps weakened as he tripped backwards until he finally fell flat on his ass. Lying softly back on the overgrown grass, he held his hands over his face so that Steven couldn’t see it, breathing deeply. Steven’s grip on the banister beam loosened, his fingers sliding down so that they gently rested near the bottom.

Andrew let his arms flop to his sides as he turned his head to the side to watch the sunset. Crumpled flowers sat by his feet, yet he seemed rather tranquil despite how he had just acted. His breaths were large enough that Steven could see the rise and fall of his chest from where he was.

Something rustled in the bushes, and while Steven tensed, Andrew sat up, perking up a bit. He was saying something softly that Steven couldn’t hear over the evening breeze, but a cat that he had seen his first day in the castle emerged from some vegetation, slinking around to greet the Prince. Relaxing, Steven watched their private little interaction.

Prince Andrew was speaking so gently to the cat that it softened all of his features. The cat had happily walked up and down on his lap, rubbing its head on him as it made lazy circles around Andrew. The Prince always seemed on the verge of laughter, but continued speaking to the creature, words just out of reach from Steven. Steven had never wanted to know anything more what he was saying.

By the time Prince Andrew was dozing on the grass with the cat assumedly purring on his chest, Steven was nodding off as he leaned against the railing beams.

 

* * *

 

It was bright and early in the morning, and since Andrew had already run off to God knows where, Steven was ready to head out and find Ryan and the children instead. After his morning meal, he had somehow managed to drift to the front yard, watching carts already be towed in to the back where they would be unloaded by the stables.

Catching sight of Adam at the front gate, Steven went to go greet him. He was speaking with a few of the guards, and Steven managed to get the tail end of their conversation.

“... will be arriving in a few week’s time. Before the winter comes,” Adam informed them, the guards nodding thoughtfully.

“It’s sooner than I thought,” one of the guards commented.

Another agreed. “I’m surprised they’re willing to come so far.”

Steven didn’t want to intrude on the conversation, but he had just remembered the letter in his pocket he had written earlier for his sister.

“What are you listening to?” a guard snapped, addressing Steven. Steven slowly retrieved the letter from his pocket, ignoring the irritableness.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he spoke smoothly, handing the letter to Adam, “But Adam, would it be possible for you to deliver this to Liz? Thanks.” Adam nodded as he stowed it away in his satchel.

“How is the Prince treating you?” Adam asked. The guards glanced between each other as they began to connect the dots.

“Oh,” one said dumbly, “You’re the Prince’s new personal guard, aren’t you?”

“I’m not too new, but technically I am,” Steven smiled. “He’s quite difficult to… follow.”

“Tell me about it!” the other guard guffawed, patting Steven firmly on the back. “I offered to do it before, but I didn’t see him for a solid week after that!”

“Do you think he deserves to know then?” the guard murmured aside, to both the other guard and Adam.

Adam nodded. “He has the right to know.” Whirling around to face Steven, he explained to him directly. “The King and Queen have been talking with various kingdoms from the Holy Roman Empire. They want to find a good princess for Prince Andriy to marry soon. I think the one arriving is from the Kingdom of Germany.”

“The Holy Roman Empire?” Something in Steven’s stomach dropped at the information. “That far? Why from there?”

“A lot of the greatest rulers are from the area,” a guard supplied. “Plus I’ve been hearing rumours about the King and Queen throwing a grand ball for the occasion. The princess will even be bringing an entire orchestra!”

“I’ve always wanted to see a ball,” the other guard sighed wistfully.

“Does the Prince know about this?” Steven pried.

The guard laughed. “Of course he does. He has ears everywhere in the castle, so rumours don’t slide by him as easily. Plus, he’s had princesses here before.”

Steven was bewildered. “He has?”

“Yes, the King and Queen have brought a few maidens here over the past few years.”

“And?”

“Prince Andriy doesn’t pay them much attention. I’ve seen them wailing because such a handsome face belongs to such a spiteful man. Truly unfair. He always disappears and they never can find him.”

“I hope you can help him do better this time,” the other guard added.

“Nothing is certain,” Adam quieted them, “But that’s all I’ve heard anyhow. I’ll deliver your letter before sundown, Steven.”

Steven strolled around the yard, mind racing as he left the conversation. His thoughts would only be momentarily stopped when he spotted the first few children racing out through the front doors.

 

* * *

 

“How come you never play for us?” Sofia asked earlier that day during the midday meal. Her hair almost dragged through the food on her plate as she leaned over the table, trying to get a better look at Steven around Ryan.

“Play for you?” Steven repeated, concentrating as he cut a piece of pork. “I play with you all the time…”

“Yulia always talks about the bandura you brought from Liz’s shop,” she continued. “Why don’t you ever play it for us?”

“Are you blind?” Oleksander piped up excitedly, making Steven choke on his food momentarily. His eldest sister Anna scolded him for his rudeness as Steven tried his best to stop coughing. As they were busy with that, Steven glanced at both ends of the table as if he was looking for the King and Queen’s approval. Their seats both were, however, empty at the time, as both were away for a few days on business in the next kingdom over. The children had invited both Steven and Ryan to eat with them.

“No, I am not blind,” Steven retorted, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. “The bandura was given to me since the old smithy that took me in when I was younger didn’t want it. You don’t have to be blind and begging to play music.”

“Oh, then do play for us,” Anna begged. “What good is it to keep the music to yourself?”

“Well…” Steven trailed off, eyes drifting past each face eagerly awaiting his answer. Only Prince Andrew was ignoring him, and Steven’s sight flickered away from him as he made up his mind. “Alright. It’s a nice day today, and we can sit outside.”

“We can go sit in the courtyard just off the back of the castle,” Ryan offered, his suggestions barely making it past the children’s cheers. “I’ll find some extra food from the kitchen and we can have a picnic.”

So now here Steven was, bandura mounted on his back, finding his way to the courtyard that Ryan had mentioned. The Prince had disappeared after the meal as per usual, and the rest of the children had already gone to play in the courtyard that opened up to where the cliff would drop to the lake. As he went, Steven’s mind already raced with various songs and melodies that he had picked up over the years.

All of the children were already draped across the lawn, lazily bathing in sunlight and eating fruit from a basket that Ryan had brought. Even though autumn was steadily coursing along, the grass remained a rich green, spotted with a few more dried leaves than it had in the past few weeks. Each child was chatting absently with one another, probably exhausted from running around in the morning already and being full of food. As Steven went to join them, he vaguely noticed how one of the walls bordering the yard also contained the wild garden underneath the Prince’s chambers. He stepped away from the shadows of the porch and tall beams holding up the rest of the castle.

As he sat down on a rather large but flat boulder, Steven let some of the children crowd around his feet, listening to him play around with his instrument as Ryan was telling them some wildly-spun tale. Steven was only tuning the strings of his bandura, but the children were enjoying it nonetheless.

The sun was kind to them that afternoon. It wasn’t too hot to make them sweat and beg for shade, but rather warmed them and kept them all happy. The little wind that blew cooled them down and carried scents of foliage and flowers that were hidden around the castle grounds. Hidden birds sang in trees, and waves from the lake still a ways away crashed against the shore.

“Oh, Steven,” Anna cried, hands delicately folded in her lap, “Don’t you know any songs?”

“Isn’t this enough?” Steven joked, playing an improvised little jingle at her protest.

“Even the monks in the chapel have their own songs,” Maksym pointed out. He reached over to grab a stray apple that had rolled away with which he had been tossing back and forth with his twin. “We know all the ones they have for mass, but they have so many more they practice around the castle sometimes.”

“You’ve heard them before, haven’t you?” Oleksander asked.

Steven nodded. “Yes I have. I believe they even sang during my first meal here. And speaking of, a lot of the songs they sing are meant to have banduras accompanying them.”

“Won’t you join them?” Ivan suggested, closing the book he had open out of further interest in the conversation.

Steven laughed. “How am I supposed to have time to play with them when I have to guard your brother?”

“You’re never with Andriy,” Yulia pouted. “He’s always gone. You have plenty of time.”

“Well then I wouldn’t have time to spend time with you,” he beamed, nudging the tip of her nose with a finger. She descended into giggles, rolling around in the grass and probably making her play dress dirtier than it already was. “I suppose you have Ryan for that though.”

“But we like you too,” Sofia pointed out, despite the fact she was comfortably sat in Ryan’s lap. Ryan seemed to be on the brink of dozing off, barely listening in to their conversation.

“It’s not a matter of who likes me...” Steven drawled, going back to tuning the last few notes of his bandura, “But rather what I’m getting paid to do.” Ryan barked out a laugh, and some of the younger kids started laughing in imitation.

“But please do play us a song,” begged Anna, clasping her hands together. “Anything would be fine.”

“Oh, yes, do play us a song,” Ryan entertained, holding up a glass of wine that he had managed to sneak into his picnic basket. Steven rolled his eyes.

“Well…” he thought, “I suppose I do remember one…” The rapt attention he gained with a few words endlessly amused him, so he drew out the story a bit more. “When the English travellers finally brought my sister and I here, we would run around the farms that circle the kingdom. There was one beggar with a bandura that knew this favourite song of mine, but a lot of the other working men would join in and sing along. My sister and I were absolutely dazzled by this… kept us more entertained than you princes and princesses frolicking around your castle all day,” he teased, earning a few giggles. He was glad at least Ryan seemed to find him quite funny. “This song is meant for a baritone voice, but hopefully I’ll suffice.”

Holding them off a bit longer didn’t push an awkward mood, yet rather created a breathless atmosphere. Steven wasn’t as used to performing in front of others, but he still basked in the attention, letting his thoughts collect naturally. [Tuning the last few strings, he began strumming in a slow waltz.](https://youtu.be/LOm_8nQ75qI)

The traditional folk sounds of the bandura instantly caught the wind, surrounding the children with their melancholic tones. Melodies and progressions were finally coming back to his fingers, and the intro let the words flow through his mind.

“ _Night so moonlit, starry and clear… you can pick even needles beneath_ ;” he began to sing. The first line already threw the listeners into a clear setting, and they were absolutely enchanted by the clear tenor voice Steven possessed. “ _Come out beloved, from hard work so weary, to the grove for a minute at least._ ”

Before Steven moved onto the next verse, he continued to improvise on the structure of the song. He kept the waltz going with one hand, and the rest of his fingers danced across the strings, altering between strumming quickly and altering the melody. Taking a deep breath, he continued on.

“ _Under the guelder rose together we sit…_ ” Steven’s voice trailed off as another voice joined him. He could see that most of the children were now staring off to the side, watching a figure step out from the shadows of the stone castle porch. His broad figure leaned against one of those posts, delicately twirling a flower in between his fingers, which Steven recognized to be from the garden just beside them. Steven’s fingers mindlessly continued despite his vocal chords’ inability to.

Though his breath was utterly lost from him, a rich baritone voice Steven never knew Prince Andrew possessed continued the next section for him. “ _And I’m the Lord over Lords! Like the silvery waves, my sweetheart, you see… in the fields is spreading the fog._ ”

Andrew’s face held a delicate confidence to it, holding his eye contact with Steven the entire time he sang. Steven’s fingers continued moving but his face was filled with awe: mouth gently agape and eyebrows slightly lifted. Without being able to clear his mind enough to change his expression, he joined the Prince in the next verse.

“ _Don’t be afraid, that your bare feet, you’ll wet in the cold evening dew… up to my hut, I will, my sweet, in my arms I’ll carry you_.”

The expression, though somewhat teasing, made Steven want to melt where he was. A charming grin was slipping onto Andrew’s face as he began to step forward again, formal poise faltering as he beckoned for Steven to continue. His arms opened up in a welcoming manner, still twirling the flower in one hand. The hint of a laugh played on his features, easily dissipating as they began the last verse of the song. Steven’s head spun as the Prince’s voice dipped into a lower register, easily weaving a wondrous harmony to Steven’s tone.

“ _Don’t be afraid you’ll get cold, little swan, no wind, no clouds: it’s warm… close to my heart, I’ll embrace you my sweet, and it’s so fervent, just like heat_.” Both stared at each other as Steven’s fingers began to slow. Steven couldn’t help but let his sight dip down to Andrew’s rosy lips, seeing that he was going to tag the end of the song.

“ _Close to my heart, I’ll embrace you my sweet, and it’s so fervent, just like heat._ ”

The last chord they held along with the last few bandura notes stayed strong but subdued, being held in the air as it cast a spell between everyone. Both were gazing at each other, too content with the mood around them to move. Andrew panted as he did every time he was frustrated, but the softness and fondness etched into his face definitely said otherwise. Leaning forward, Andrew let a few breathy laughs slip, his eyes lingering on Steven before slipping to the rest of his siblings. Steven was so dizzy that he had to support himself on the boulder further with one of his hands.

“I didn’t know you could sing, Andriy!” Yulia spoke up first, sitting up on her knees. She watched her brother in awe, seeing him hand the flower he held to Sofia. Ryan still held her, staring at Steven curiously.

“Of course I can,” Andrew answered gruffly. He spun around once before lying on his back between Steven and Ivan, stretching out like a cat in the sun. “I learned a long time ago.”

“You’re very good, dear brother,” Anna added, and both the twins nodded in unison. “We’ve never once heard you sing so much with us.”

“Where did learn that song?” Steven asked him incredulously. For all he knew, the tune had been a farmers’ song.

The Prince refrained from looking directly, instead keeping his forearms over his eyes to shade himself. “From here and there,” he replied vaguely, waving the question off.

“Well if you know that, then do you know _Dark Maiden_?” Ryan invited them both to continue, the warmth of the sunshine and wine possibly getting to him.

“Isn’t that a Rus’ song?” Andrew said boredly. “But yes, I know it.” He whipped around to Steven suddenly, startling him. “And you? Do you know it?”

“Ah, yes… I do know it,” he stammered, blinking. “Let me see if I actually _remember_ it.”

The rest of the afternoon lazily dragged along, the three of them singing songs they remembered as Steven played away on his bandura, the children either listening or doing their own thing. Though his mind was back into the music, some intrusive part of him wondered where the Prince had learned all of those tunes.

That being said, he found himself quite content with Prince Andrew’s presence simply staying by his side - _just for the time being_ . He watched the flower in Sofia’s hands, thinking about how his own plant in his chest fought its way up and thrived, sprouting despite its browning around the edges.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if ur wondering... yeah there are and will be a few scenes heavily influenced by the sound of music lmao
> 
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> [bfu/bfwi tumblr](https://unsolvedbs.tumblr.com/)
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> [my tumblr](http://universalsatan.tumblr.com/)  
> [writing blog (for chapter/fic updates)](http://celestialberries.tumblr.com/)


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